


Four Morons, One ship

by MystxMomo



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Everyone is out to fuck with Byakuya Togami, Gen, Kamukura Plays Nice to get what he wants, might not be canon compliant, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21599692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MystxMomo/pseuds/MystxMomo
Summary: "What, the fuck is wrong with you?"His head tilts and red eyes meet his directly, "They decided I was too powerful, so they nerfed me with apathy and a general disinterest for life.""What."He gazes on, "Humor, Togami. To lighten the mood," He throws another knife at the wall, "Not that you seem to know much about that."Naegi fucking Makoto giggles behind his cup. It doesn’t comfort him about this, exactly.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 183





	Four Morons, One ship

**Author's Note:**

> This is the start of a series of fics I will create entitled "Izuru Kamukura where he doesn't belong" In which I place Izuru Kamukura places he does not belong.

The first clue that Togami is going to be in for a horrible, god awful day is the conversation he hears through the door.

("What do you want to eat-"

"I hold no preference. Food is little more than a biological necessity to me. Take what you’d like"

"Uh. Are you sure? I can-" silence, "I mean. Alright..")

The first voice is familiar. Naegi Makoto.

The second voice is less so. 

It’s enough of a warning to him that he gets the majority of his immediate griping off with a sharp scoff, then falls right into preparing even stronger ones in for his entrance. He lets his hand linger on the doorway, listens to something hit the wall, and the way the chattering in there seems to fall to a murmur.

Then he enters, swinging the door open with the flourish of irritation and anger.

“Great. Why is  _ that _ one out of its cage?”

The entire room turns its gaze to him when he walks in. Good. As it should be. What shouldn’t be is how wholey unimpressed the crowd looks. Naegi looks startled, frozen sharp in his chair. Kirigiri is giving him an unimaginably blank look, takes a sip of her juice. The terrorist barely keeps his eyes to his, before looking back to the spot on the wall he must have decided was particularly interesting today.

(He looks ridiculous. Someone has given him a hair tie, and he’s wearing a hoodie over that shitty suit of his. He suspects the culprit for both of these are, in fact, Naegi. This fact alone angers him to no end.)

The knife in his hand is of no comfort. He twirls it a few times, mindlessly.

Naegi smiles, “Oh! Byakuya, I didn’t know you were u-”

“You didn’t answer my question,” He’s not in the mood to deal with this, “That one. Why is  _ it _ here.”

A knife goes flying to the wall. He doesn’t have enough time to respond to it, “Breakfast,” He says, simply, “I imagine that’s something you know even,” A pause, “Former terrorists need. We do not subsist on the blood of our enemies alone.”

Naegi smiles. He clenches his fists.

“You can do that. From a cell,” His patience today is already being tested. He feels the beginning stages of a headache beginning to form in the back of his head.

The terrorist picks up another knife. He notices that there is a small pile next to him for this express purpose, “Ah,” He says. Spins the knife again, “Yes. In theory. But I do not want that, in practice. So here I am.” 

The blade goes flying. Closer to him this time. 

He sucks in a breath, "What, the fuck is wrong with you?"

His head tilts and red eyes meet his directly, "They decided I was too powerful, so they nerfed me with apathy and a general disinterest for life."

"What."

He gazes on, "Humor, Togami. To lighten the mood," He throws another knife at the wall, "Not that you seem to know much about that."

Naegi fucking Makoto giggles behind his cup. It doesn’t comfort him about this, exactly.

He’s had enough, “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“...You’re free to call me Hinata,” The words are said in a blank monotone, and the man goes to swipe a strand of hair out of his face. He notes the way Kirigiri looks up, squints. Then says nothing, incredibly  _ helpful _ as always.

“Well  _ Hinata _ ,” He punctuates the name by spitting it out, “I don’t know if you know the position you’re in, but you’re not exactly in a position to be. Throwing knives. Sitting and eating BREAKFAST. Join the rest of the rats.”

“Byakuya, don’t be rude!” Naegi’s frown is thick on his face. He doesn’t like what that judgment does to him, because he’s not the one in the wrong here, “Hinata has helped us a lot! I don’t think we would have caught- uh," Naegi stumbles over himself. Goes so far to look at Hinata for help.

"The Yakuza and his Swordhand," he supplies, gaze still sharply on Togami.

"Oh! Kuzuryu and Pekoyama. And we wouldn't have been able to find- Komaeda?"

Hinata nods, raises the glass of coffee to his lips and rests it there, "The lucky one." He is still staring. 

"Komaeda, then. Got it," Naegi has a moment where he looks more bothered with searing the names into his mind then he does with the fact that they have a dangerous terrorist outside of a cell, “Well. We wouldn’t have gotten them without his help.”

“You would have caught the yakuza duo,” Hinata says, with an eerie amount of certainty, “They were fighting a loosing battle. I’ve simply made your life.. Easier,” He grabs another knife from the slowly deminishing pile on the table, and sends it thoughtlessly flying across the room. It hits the wall right past Togami’s head. He most certainly does NOT flinch, “You may not have found Komaeda, though.” 

He doesn’t explain what he means by that, and quite frankly? Togami doesn’t want to hear it, “Would you STOP doing that?”

“Hm?” He looks on. Tilts his head, “Why?”

Naegi shoots him a side eye, finally giving him some treatment of suspicion. Maybe he WASN’T painfully moronic, “I think he’s nervous you’ll hit him,” He says this as if it’s a point that needs explained. Sort of guilty? What.

“Hm,” Hinata looks up at the ceiling. If he didn’t know better, he’d say it was an eyeroll. It’s long enough to be drawn out, but not long enough to let him get a word in edgewise, “Very well. If it no longer humors you, I will stop.” Ah. Right. Of course he listens to Naegi. Who else would he listen to?

Naegi smiles at him. It’s not as nervous as it should be. It’s more like he just beat the level of a video-game on easy and still thinks he’s accomplished something fantastic.

He scoffs, “Great,” He turns his gaze over to Kirigiri, who has not once looked up from what was apparently a rather engaging novel, nor paused to stop chewing the slice of bacon since the first time she’d eye’d Hinata down, “And you’re just going along with this.”

She looks up at him. Swallows her food slowly, with purpose. Then, instead of explaining herself, closes her eyes, gives a simple shrug, a nod, and takes another bite of food.

“Fantastic,” He’s almost positive he’s too young for chronic migraines. He does not pull out a chair to sit with them. Simply moves past Naegi and snatches his last two slices of bacon.

“Aw,” Naegi, herbivore he is, does not stop him.

“Where are the painkillers?” He snaps, and takes a much harder bite of his bacon then necessary. He bites his cheek in the process. It hurts. He pretends not to care.

Kirigiri looks up to the second cabinet, and then stares at him a little judgmentally. Judgmental for HER, anyway. He gets the point.

By the time he’s dug out the painkillers from the back of the cabinet and stollen a cup of juice (From Kirigiri this time), Hinata has not so subtly passed the rest of his bacon to Naegi (Who looks, lack of a better word, delighted) and gone back to staring a hole into his head. Cross armed and rigid. Even passed the ridiculous get up, it’s still somewhat.. Intimidating.

It pains him to admit that, even mentally.

This only makes him angrier. He knocks back four ibuprofen and gulps down the rest of the drink for good measure. Kirigiri holds her hand out for the glass. He ignores her and slams it onto the table, “I was going to finish that,” She tells him, calmly.

“Gah.”

“You’re the pinnacle of maturity and professionalism,” She reaches over to take Naegi’s cup, but only after he pushes it in her direction. They were disgustingly polite. He’s almost tempted to take that one, as well, “Hinata-san. Would you like another cup?”

“My coffee with suffice.”

“Shame. I was going to make Byakuya grab it.”

He clicks his tongue at her. The room goes silent.

“.. We are a day out from Jabberwock Island,” Hinata says, what he thinks is conversationally. 

“That we are,” Kirigiri replies, turns a page in her book. 

It's quiet, again. Kirigiri finishes her food. Hinata slides the rest of his plate in Naegi's direction, and gets up.

“Ah. In that case. Goodbye, Naegi Makoto. May we meet again in the future.” He has the nerve to give Naegi. _Fucking_. Makoto a small bow. Then turn and look at him, HIM, with such a critical gaze.

“Haha, what?” Naegi has a tendency to nervous laughter. It’s one of the first things Togami had learned about him, even before they were…  _ friends _ . The fact that this guy unnerved Naegi sometimes was comforting in its own regard.

“.. Nothing. I am being cryptic. Nothing to worry yourself over.” He’s _still_ _looking_ , “You. You shall accompany me, though.”

Like hell he is, “Uh. No.”

“It would be to your benefit.”

That shouldn’t pique his curiosity, “Ah,” He says. Watches how slowly he sheds the hoodie and hands it Naegi's way, “You know? No, I don’t think it would.”

“Then I will wander the ship. Alone.”

He grits his teeth, “Take Naegi.”

“He still has breakfast to finish,” Naegi smiles his way, and as if to prove the terrorists point takes a bite of his new bacon, and places it on his new plate of food. If it wasn’t Naegi, he’d say the action was.. Sarcastic? 

This guy was a bad influence.

“Byakuya,” Kirigiri’s voice is level. The sort of tone she uses when there’s something she’s hiding something. Not from him, of course, but from Naegi, “If you would. Please.”

Togami does not like taking orders. Nor does he like falling to peer pressure. Unfortunately, he has three people looking at him as though they already expect him to agree, and he has not yet taken a seat.

“Fine,” He says, with as much irritation his voice can contain. Hinata doesn’t wait past that. Simply turns and leaves.

He stares. And after taking a breath to collect himself, says, “I  _ am _ going,” He grouches, “to kill you two.”

Kirigiri does not blink. Naegi smiles, and finishes his bacon.

  
  
  


He thinks he might be able to travel the hall behind him without saying anything, when they’re about a minute into their walk. It seems as though that luck is not in his favor. Rather, his own damn curiosity is not.

  
  


“Why are you helping us,” The question is sincere. The tone is not.

“You are a businessman.”

“Ah. So you do have eyes,” Not his best jab. He can do better.

“Surely, you know how to play a game of calculated risks and losses, then,” Hinata seems wholey unaffected, “And finding means to an end.”

“And your end?”

Hinata pulls the hair tie out, shifts through the strands a few times to mess them back into place, “It’s as you said. I am not in a cell. They are. Is that not enough of an end?”

“There’s something else,” It’s not a question.

Hinata stops. It takes him a moment to realize where they are, and that the stop is with purpose, “I want you to lock me into Komaeda’s cell. Naegi would not do that,” Hinata finally tells him, when they’ve been walking long enough, and seem to be far enough away.

“What?” What, “You just said part of the  _ perks _ ,” The word is said dirty on his tongue, with purpose, “Is that you are _not_ locked in a cage.”

“No. I acknowledged that at the moment I am not,” Cheeky dick, “The appeal of helping is the serenity of choice. I wish to be locked into the cell with Komaeda, and you want me locked in a cage. Beneficial to both of us, is it not?”

The idea of placing this jackass in a cell is appealing. The idea of placing this jackass in the cell he wants to be placed in is not, “Why?” 

“...” Hinata looks down the stairwell, as though he can see directly into the cell housing the man in question, “You do not want that one out. I do not want that one out. We are on the same side.”

“What,” He says, for what feels like the thirteenth time today, “He’s behind three locks and a deadbolt. You think that’s not enough to keep him trapped?”

“No.”

He can only grumble.

“His talent is luck,” He says this like it explains everything. Togami’s eyebrows sure do furrow, he’s sure of that much.

“Like- What. Like, Naegi?”

“Hm. You do not call him by a given name. Interesting,” He doesn’t frown, because he hasn’t changed his expression once since coming onto this damn ship. However, he can see one there in spirit. Hinata looks at him, a particular look that makes him feel like something is going over his head. 

Togami Byakuya hates nothing more than being out of the loop. He also does not like this observation, nor the layers and implications under it. So he ignores it until the man continues.

“No. Naegi has no talent. He is impressively ordinary by every caliber,” What? “Komaeda’s talent is luck itself. It bends to his expectations and will. If he wishes to get out, he will get out,” Hinata looks back to the stairs. Stares again, harder this time, “He’s not wished to get out yet. But I believe the third day will be his limit.”

Togami doesn’t know why he’s humoring this. It's absolutely ridiculous, painfully horrid, and... “And you can stop it?” 

“My control overpowers his own,” Togami scowls in turn, “You are on a need to know basis. That is all you need to know.”

Finally, he starts walking again, “You are insufferable.”

"Your comments do not bother me. I lived for a period under Enoshima,” He must tense, because the man's immediate words after are, "Ah. You don’t like being reminded of that?"

"Of course not," he snaps, "Generally I'm trying to keep it in the back of my mind that I'm on a one way death trap with a group of terrorists."

"Hm. Sensible,” Hinata gazes to the ceiling, “Yet you keep bringing it up. You bore me.”

“Good. After this we can escape speaking terms,” Ah, how nice that would be.

And yet. He only manages to get down to the stairwell until he finds himself speaking again.

  
  


“So. Naegi really doesn’t have a talent, huh?” Togami curses himself.

If he squints, he thinks Hinata might just look amused, “Optimism and altruism are not talents,” When did he get the keys to the cells. He fumbles with them, and plucks out what he is sure is the right one near immediately.  _ That _ was asking for trouble, “In fact, he seems tragically unlucky.”

“But the school-”

“Sometimes, ordinary people get lucky,” Hinata cuts him off quickly, “As is the case for Naegi. That does not make their talent luck. Even the school struggled to understand that.” 

Silence. Again. 

He doesn’t bother to speak up the rest of their travels, until they’re standing outside of the doorway.

“He’s not going to attack us, is he?” He has to be sure. Hinata is already unlocking the bolts, though.

“No. Though he does not fear me, he is in a state of constant lethargy. In fact, his brain is deteriorating as we speak. He may not even remember me,” The side eye he gets, in turn, isn’t satisfying in the slightest, “You were there when we found them. You should know this.”

"Fear.” Is what he focuses on instead. His reply isn't as dry as he wants it to be. He’ll have to make the next one even more sarcastic to make up for it.

Hinata’s hand stops on the last lock, “Fear,” Hinata echo’s, nodding, “The others do. I am untouchable, and they do not like me. Up until recently, I was on their side. Now I am not. Therefore, their reaction is fear, not respect. They are predictable. Boring.”

“Right.”

Hinata opens the door.

The cells are, for the most part, empty. This is because their stealing of the ship was last minute, and they barely had time to renovate the storage rooms to give them locks.

It makes the fact that Komaeda Nagito is laid out in the corner, entirely limp in a pool of cloth, all the more eerie. 

(He’s reminded, sharply, of walking in on Chihiro’s body back at Hopes Peak. But there is no blood, and even from here he can see the even, slight rise and fall of his shoulders. It's not a comforting thought in the slightest.)

He sniffs, and finds himself asking, “Is he  _ dead _ ?”

“He is... sick, just as the rest of them are. It is nothing to be concerned yourself with,” It’s meant to be a conversation ender. It crawls under his skin. The man in the cell does not turn to face them, “Goodbye, Togami Byakuya,” He throws him the keys. The aim is nothing short of perfect.

He catches it just fine, thank you, no trouble at all, “Very well,” He says.

He closes the door. 

And then he’s left alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Meet me @Mystxmomo Like all those kids on social media
> 
> Today at 5:12 PM  
> You know, in this one shot I'm writing I placed the detail that Kamukura helped catch Komaeda  
> But I'm almost positive that was more a matter of finding him. Komaeda is a former cancer patient thats been living as a servant  
> Theres no way in this theoretical he didn't just stroll over and pick Komaeda up // Throw him over his shoulder  
> "Ah, it seems I've been caught. What bad luck." Goes limp
> 
> Komaeda: Waves cherrily as they pass makoto, who's still got a glock in his hand  
> Makoto, confused but waving back nonetheless: ????


End file.
